


Shut up, Alexander

by abattlecry



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: @god i am sorry, Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, M/M, PWP, it's exactly what it sounds like, look you can't blame me for this it's not my fault, yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:58:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5343239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abattlecry/pseuds/abattlecry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamilton has been talking Professor Washington's ears off for hours since he announced who would be the new debate team captain.  Washington finds a way to keep him quiet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut up, Alexander

**Author's Note:**

> blame ohhlorelei for this sin, okay? I just wrote it, she's the one who encouraged me.

"No, Alexander." Washington's voice, usually so unaffected and commanding was cracking with barely concealed impatience. 

 

"Sir, if you would just listen -" Hamilton bit out through clenched teeth. He was pacing erratically in front Washington, who was following Hamilton's movements through increasingly hard eyes as he leaned against his heavy oak desk, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. 

 

Washington cut him off sharply, "Jefferson earned his position as captain, young man." The implication in Washington's words - that Hamilton somehow hadn't earned it, that he wasn't good enough - had him bristling. He had never worked harder in his life than for the debate club. Jefferson, meanwhile skated by on cheap tricks, and won his rounds with personal attacks. Hamilton had never, not in the six months he had been a member of the Washington's team, seen Jefferson do a second of research. It was infuriating. 

 

Washington, oblivious to the storm in Hamilton's mind, continued speaking, deep voice resounding clearly through his office. "He has been a member of the club for four years, and he is gradu-" 

 

"I don't give a FUCK how long he's been doing this, Jefferson doesn't deserve SHIT." Hamilton's outburst did not stop his pacing. He was still walking with increasing speed between bookshelves in the office. His eyes could've been on fire and burned less, Washington caught himself thinking as his eyebrows climbed toward the top of his forehead. 

 

"Son, listen to me" he started to reprimand Hamilton, but his student continued to speak, voice growing louder as his hands stabbed at the air. Washington gritted his teeth, patience with the young man coming to an end at last. 

 

"How could you even put such a vacuous waste of space in charge? He is worse than useless, he's actively sabotaging the team."

 

Hamilton abruptly stopped, inches from where Washington was leaning. His thick dark hair was escaping from the ridiculous bun he kept it in most of the time, falling across his thin shoulders in waves, his dark eyes smoldered furiously, and his fists were clenched almost comically at his sides, thin frame shaking with barely contained passion. 

 

Washington raised himself to his full height, towering over the shorter man, and drew a frustrated breath to finally shut Hamilton up, to kick him out of the office, get him to come back at a reasonable hour - but the boy KEPT TALKING. Breathing hard, neck craned back to glare Washington in the eye despite his height, Hamilton hissed, "Unless you don't care about any of that. You only care about how much Jefferson's daddy gives to your department. Well, I don't have his name, or his father's money, but if you want REAL skill on your team - " Hamilton's tirade ended suddenly when Washington's hand gripped him by the front of his shirt, yanking him off his feet and around, slamming him back against the desk. He leaned down, eyes smoldering with fury of his own. 

 

"Enough," he growled, face inches from Hamilton's wide eyes. 

 

Hamilton swallowed audibly, suddenly at a loss for words. His eyes darted to Washington's curled lips, then quickly back up. 

 

Washington's eyes darkened when he noticed the motion, shoving back off the desk so Hamilton wouldn't notice the suddenly tightness of his slacks. 

 

Hamilton stayed sprawled across the surface of the desk, panting, ridiculous hair even more askew now. A new kind of fire was in his eyes. He darted his tongue nervously across his lips, watching Washington's eyes follow the motion. 

 

"Sir," he said, voice rough, raising himself up onto his elbows.

 

"Alexander," Washington said. His tone was held a warning, but the gravel in his voice and the fact that it had grown almost impossibly deeper gave his true feelings away. 

 

"Sir," Hamilton said again, sliding off the desk and onto his knees in front of his professor. Before he could continue, Washington grabbed him by the back of his hair, yanking his head back as he roughly pulled out the rubber band holding it up. Hamilton gasped as it snapped loudly in the silence of the empty building. Hamilton's hair fell softly to his shoulders, and he stared up at Washington, brown eyes wide, lips parted slightly in shock. 

 

"Alexander." he repeated, proud of the firmness in his voice at odds with the pounding of his heart. "You keep interrupting me." Washington's hand stayed in Hamilton's hair, holding his head back at an angle so he could see the expression on his face. 

 

Hamilton's lip curled lightly up at the edges before he spoke, "I'm sorry, professor." Washington's eyes darkened further, his eyebrows drawing together. If the little imp would have given him a moment to think, he might have realized the thousand of reasons why what they were doing was a terrible idea. 

 

As it was he tightened his grip on Hamilton's hair, cock twitching at the soft moan he got in response. "You don't sound entirely sincere, Alexander," he said. 

 

Hamilton licked his lips again, hands coming up from his sides to rest lightly on Washington's hips. "Is there anything I could do," he said, slowly running his hand toward the front of Washington's pants, "to convince you of my sincerity?" 

 

Washington was fully hard in his slacks now, and there was no way out of this with grace. His breath was coming quicker, and he loosened his grip on Hamilton's hair as the young man leaned forward. He glanced up at Washington's dark eyes one more time, smiling brightly before gripping the zipper with his teeth and dragging it down at the same time as he deftly undid the button with one hand. The other slipped inside the pants to cup Washington through his underwear. 

 

Washington's low groan as Hamilton pulled him out of his pants went straight to his cock. Hamilton moaned in return as he ran his dry hand along Washington's length. 

 

Washington hissed at the friction, thrusting shallowly into Hamilton's loose grip. Hamilton pressed the palm of his free hand against the base of his own cock to relieve the pressure building there, staring up at Washington's open mouth, panting in tandem with the professor. 

 

Hamilton took a deep breath, pumping Washington's staff, spreading the pre-come that had gathered at the tip up and down before sinking his mouth over the head, and bringing him deeper, deeper, until his nose was nearly pressed against Washington's shirt. 

 

"Fucking CHRIST, Alex," Washington gasped, surprised by the heat and wet that suddenly surrounded the whole of him. Hamilton hummed in response, the vibrations traveling though Washington's cock forcing another low groan from his already hoarse throat. 

 

The hand still in Hamilton's hair tightened as he ran the tip of his tongue along the thick vein at the bottom of Washington's cock. Hamilton moaned at the slight sting, eyes watering as Washington immobilized his head. Washington took control, thrusting into Hamilton's throat, shallowly at first, and then deeper, encouraged by the desperate noises Hamilton was making. 

 

Washington tipped his head back, looking away from the young man kneeling at his feet. He took a deep breath to gain his composure as best as he could. He did his best to control himself through the suction of Hamilton's soft lips, and the swirling of Hamilton's warm tongue - Washington's breath hitched. 

 

"Touch yourself, Alexander," Washington commanded, voice tightly controlled even as the motion of his hips grew more erratic. Hamilton was swirling his tongue around Washington's base, and rolling his balls gently in one hand. He knew it wouldn't be long before his release. The illicit nature of the encounter, of fucking Alexander Hamilton's face in his office at eleven at night only added fuel to the fire building deep within him. 

 

Alexander drew himself out of his jeans with his free had, not for a moment pausing the work of the hand around Washington's balls and his tongue's constant pressure around Washington's length as he began to rapidly pump his cock. The combination of the sight: Hamilton, furiously masturbating with the silky hair that wasn't clutched tightly in Washington's fist falling softly around his face as Washington's cock disappeared in and out of his mouth, eyes bright with tears; and the vibration of Hamilton's choked off moans brought on Washington's release very suddenly. Before he had a chance to warn Hamilton with so much as a tug at his hair, Washington's hips snapped forward, driving deep and spilling down his throat. He tried to muffle his shout, but it was, Washington thought fuzzily, good that it was the middle of the night. 

 

Hamilton took him beautifully, swallowing everything down as his fist sped up on his cock. He gasped loudly, taking great having breaths as Washington's soft cock slipped from his wet, swollen lips. His gasps turned into breathy moans that resolved themselves into an alternating pattern of Washington's name, and 'sir' until he came into his own fist, Washington staring down at him, inscrutable. 

 

They stayed like that in silence for a moment, gathering their breath, before tucking themselves back into their pants. Hamilton rose slowly to his feet, wincing at the ache in his neck and jaw from being held at such and odd angle for so long. 

 

".... Sir" Hamilton started in a rasping voice. Washington, looking to Hamilton as calm and unruffled as he had been when he first showed up at the office hours before, cut him off with a gesture of one of his large hands. 

 

"Go home, Alexander," he said 

 

"But sir...." 

 

"That wasn't a request." Hamilton dropped his eyes to the floor, shame burning his cheeks. Washington sighed, placing a comforting hand on Hamilton's shoulder.

 

"Relax, young man," he sighed again, thoroughly ready to be at home in his bed. "We'll discuss this later."

 

"Sir.." Hamilton began hesitantly.

 

"Yes, Alexander?"

 

"Jefferson-"

 

"Good night, Alexander." 

 

"Yes, sir."


End file.
